Unbreakable
by Just Another Flygirl
Summary: It all started as a routine mission... Warnings for swearing and description of resuscitation.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** _I do not own any of the characters from Thunderbirds Are Go - they belong to the late Gerry and Silvia Anderson_

 **Author's Note:** _Sorry it's taken so long for me to post another fic - I've not been having the best of times with my anxiety and depression. The theme of this fic (Unbreakable) is based upon the 100 Themes Challenge on DeviantArt that I started years ago and never got around to completing. Unlike my last fic, this one is definitely going to have a second chapter. I hope you guys like it! Please do leave a review and let me know how I've done!_

* * *

As space monitor of Thunderbird Five and generally International Rescue's first point of contact, John Tracy tended to pride himself on his ability to stay calm in even the most stressful situations.

Today was _not_ one of those days.

Their latest situation was located in an old tin mine - long abandoned from many moons ago. Two urban explorers had been reckless enough to trap themselves within its confines - one of which had sustained a broken ankle during their attempts to escape.

As per usual, Scott had been first on the scene in Thunderbird One; with Virgil and Gordon not been too far behind in Thunderbird Two.

It had been a pretty straightforward rescue: John and EOS had managed to pinpoint the location of the stricken explorers by the time Scott had set the high-speed craft down - the pilot still grumbling about how there had not been enough time to fix the damage to one of the scramjet inlets from their previous mission before being called out again. This, in turn, cut down the average delay between the two International Rescue crafts arriving on the scene - much to Virgil's amusement.

By the time Virgil had landed the large, green craft, Scott had already located the two young men. Virgil had then climbed down to join them, assisting in moving the pair back up to safely where Gordon was standing by to receive them after having prepared the medical bay on board Thunderbird Two.

It was a textbook rescue.

One that the two eldest Tracy brothers had done more times than they could count.

And then, it all went to shit.

Scott and Virgil had just helped the remaining uninjured man up the side of the abandoned mine when the ground beneath their feet had given out.

Quick to react, Scott yelled a warning to Gordon to keep clear; shoving the remaining explorer in his direction - sending the aquanaut tumbling backwards as he caught the man - before he and Virgil disappeared from view, accompanied by the sound of falling rubble.

Up in Thunderbird Five, John's fingers moved deftly across the holographic map, trying his best to keep down the sickening feeling of panic that was slowly rising in his throat.

"EOS, I need a lock on them. _Now_."

Meanwhile, in the few chaotic seconds that passed, Scott's quick reflexes kicked in and he managed to fire a point blank shot from his grapple gun - the line embedding itself into rock and going taught. Simultaneously, Virgil reached up, grabbing onto his brother's ankle. He cringed as their fall was abruptly halted; as Scott yelped out over the open comms channel from the sudden tension of the grapple line on his shoulders and Virgil's hefty build wrenching his leg.

A chunk of falling rock rebounded off another sizable boulder, hitting Virgil square in the chest and he let out a grunt of pain as his hand slipped.

"Virgil!"

* * *

 _I hope you enjoyed reading this - sorry to leave it on such a literal cliffhanger. I'm already working on the next chapter, but do let me know what you think and thanks so much for reading._


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you so much to everyone that has - it really means so much to me!_

 _Chapter Two is much longer than its predecessor - advanced warnings for language!_

* * *

Gravity had never been John Tracy's friend.

He despised the way it made his limbs feel sluggish and heavy when he was Earth-bound: How the pull on his body often distracted him enough to cloud his thoughts.

How it was now responsible for grasping hold of his two older brothers, dragging them both down as the fragile ground beneath their feet had crumbed away.

 _"Virgil!"_

And yet, as he floated there in the weightlessness of space, listening to the shouts over the open communications channel, he found himself loathing the fact that he wasn't right there in the danger zone to offer any physical assistance: How all he could do was watch helplessly as the bold green icon representing Virgil on his holographic map of the area descended further down the steep contours before coming to rest on an out cropping. How just mere seconds after that, the deep blue icon that represented Scott seemed to follow suite, slowing in a slightly more controlled manner near Virgil's location.

His role on board Thunderbird Five was both a blessing and a curse.

"John."

The space monitor flinches as EOS' child-like pitch pulls him out of his uncharacteristically anxious musings and back into the present. He can already tell from her flat tone of voice that his comrade has less than good news.

"Biometrics on Virgil's suit have picked up blunt force trauma to the chest," the A.I. stated. "I suspect he will require medical assistance."

"Isn't Scott down there with him?" John frowns, checking the icons on the hologram again. He can see that Gordon appears to be safely within the confines of Thunderbird Two - probably securing the two explorers before gathering any necessary equipment required to retrieve their stricken brothers.

"I do not believe the decision was made entirely by choice," EOS replied. "Sensors in his flight suit have picked up trauma to his right shoulder."

John blinked for a moment before it clicked in his head.

Ah, yes.

Brains had recently upgraded their uniforms during their last bout of downtime. The spectacled genius had nestled some extra sensory nanotechnology into the fabric of their suits; allowing for increased biometric data whilst out on the field.

Technically, it was all still in the trial and testing phase.

John was _not_ taking any risks.

"Thunderbird One. Do you read me?"

There was a beat of silence before he heard their Field Commander respond over the open communications channel.

 _"Fuck... That really hurt."_

The tension in John's shoulders eased somewhat at the sound of his eldest brother's voice, cringing a little at the colourful choice of words from the ex-Air Force pilot. He had not missed the sharp intake of air, followed by the hiss of pain that had preceded it.

John frowned, lithe fingers dancing across the holographic panel before him. Scott's utility sash must have sustained some damage, disrupting the video feed. At least the audio seemed to be working...

He paused for a moment before tentatively approaching his next question.

"Are you okay?"

 _"I've walked away from worse, Thunderbird Five."_

In spite of his worry over his brothers' current predicament, John managed a faint smile. "Point taken."

Scott was notorious for having an 'act now, worry later' attitude. Whilst it meant he had honed some impressively sharp reflexes and reaction times, it also had him throwing himself unnecessarily into the path of danger more times than his siblings cared to count. It was a reckless trait that he seemed to have developed from an early age - most probably as a form of outlet after their mother had passed away. And one that, despite numerous talks from his brothers - usually Virgil - did very little to curb any future risk taking; which, on bad days, ended in a trip to the infirmary.

John ever wondered if Scott knew just how lucky he was on particularly nasty days. He also often worried about what would happen when said luck finally ran out...

"John!"

EOS' voice was sharp, volume raised, expressing concern.

 _"Virgil!"_

Scott's voice was almost in tandem; equally as alarmed over the comms.

 _"Virgil! Wake up! ...Shit!"_

More of Scott's wonderful vocabulary. But John was hardly paying attention to the finer details as an alarm blared from the remote biometrics screen situated just off to his right.

 _"John! I need Gordon down here with the life support kit! Priority One!"_

There was a rare, uncharacteristic hint of panic in the their Field Commander's terse voice.

The space monitor was quick to discover the cause.

He was no medic, but he had seen the live biometrics screens of his fellow teammates and family enough to know what a normal electrocardiogram looked like. And the disarray of electrical impulses emanating from Virgil's suit - especially next to the standard signals from Gordon and Scott's - was enough to simultaneously send chills down his spine and constrict his chest, his breath hitching in his throat.

"Virgil has gone into ventricular fibrillation," EOS stated. "Scott is applying manual cardiopulmonary resuscitation but it is impertinent that Gordon reach your brothers with the immediate life support equipment as soon as possible."

John felt winded as EOS' words drove home; confirming the disorganised, neon green line dancing before him.

It took him a further five seconds to finally tear his eyes away from the screen and patch through to Gordon.

"Gordon! I need you to drop everything and get to Virgil and Scott! _Now_!"

* * *

 _Another tense ending! I'm so sorry!_

 _Also, Virgil fans, please don't kill me! D:_

 _Please do leave a review if you're still enjoying this ^^;_


	3. Chapter 3

_Again, many thanks for those of you who took the time to review - it gives me encouragement to keep on writing :)_

 _I received a review to the last chapter by thunderbird shadow and also another PM away from with regards to ventricular fibrillation - apologies, that's the cardiac radiographer in me coming forth!_

 _Special thanks to my best buddy and space bagel, Olly, for some geology info in this chapter - you rock! (pun not initially but now totally intended) ^^  
_

 _Advanced warning for those that don't like descriptions of resuscitation!_

* * *

Pain.

White hot.

Burning.

Scott winced, feeling the sharp, stabbing sensation in his right shoulder increase each time he pushed down on Virgil's chest.

 _Eight, nine, ten..._

Keeping a mental count whilst he worked definitely helped to distract him from the jagged shard of greyish rock sticking out of his aforementioned shoulder; taking the edge off things - if only a little.

 _Fourteen, fifteen, sixteen..._

Nevermind the fact that he was currently stranded down the side of a long-abandoned tin mine at the bottom of an old glacial basin, trying to perform adequate CPR...

Alone.

On his own brother.

 _Twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two..._

"Come on, Virgil! Wake up!"

His words came out harsh and sharp.

An order.

 _Twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven..._

Blood oozed down his arm - warm and sticky - staining the fabric of his flight suit a deep, dark colour. He ignored it as he carried on.

 _Twenty-nine, thirty!_

He had already discarded his and Virgil's helmets - throwing them haphazardly in some random direction. He'd worry about finding them later.

Head tilt.

Chin lift.

One breath.

Sharp blue eyes watched keenly for the rise and subsequent fall in Virgil's chest.

It was probably some kind of panic-induced delirium - a coping mechanism - but somewhere in the back of his mind, Scott set himself a reminder to tease Virgil about all of this when they were safely back home again. He could only imagine how disappointed the latter would be upon finding out he had not been given mouth-to-mouth by some hottie. Perhaps it was a subconscious goal that he had set - that Virgil just _had_ to pull through - and right now, it was all he had to hold on to.

One more breath.

This time, Scott did not even wait to see the forced breath exhale again before he shifted back to his original position; planting the heel of his left hand square into the middle of Virgil's chest. His right hand followed suite, interlocking his fingers as he resumed chest compressions.

 _Two, three, four..._

"Come on, you sunovabitch!"

 _Nine, ten, eleven..._

"Don't you fucking die on me, Virgil!"

 _Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen..._

Scott winced as he felt a wet crunch under his hands. He was definitely going to have to apologise to Virgil later for breaking a rib or two. The brunette just hoped - and prayed - that he had not managed to puncture a lung...

 _Nineteen, twenty, twenty-one..._

"C'mon, Virg.."

His words came out a hint softer this time.

It was less of an order.

More of a plea.

 _Twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six..._

"Stay with me, bro."

Even with his gloves on, he could feel his hands becoming slick with his own blood. Scott gritted his teeth, locking his fingers tighter in determination. The chunk of rock embedded in his shoulder was impinging his range of movement, hindering him. But as much as his instincts wanted to just yank the piece free, he knew it would be a _very_ bad decision...

 _Thirty!_

His body was moving before his mind could register; breathing for his brother. Virgil looked so still. Almost peaceful. Like he was asleep...

No time to think like that!

He was already back on Virgil's chest before he knew it. Blood from his shoulder wound had already seeped into the fallen pilot's uniform like a grim placement marker for his hands.

 _One, two, three..._

"Don't you _dare_ leave me, Virgil.."

He could feel his muscles starting to tire and ache with strain and fatigue.

Where the hell was Gordon?!

 _Six, seven, eight..._

"Come back to me."

He heard his own voice waver, cracking ever so slightly.

What if Virgil did not wake up?

Scott was the eldest. A decorated Air Force pilot. The Field Commander of International Rescue. He was supposed to be the one that his brothers and teammates looked up to.

An unbreakable force to be reckoned with.

But all of that meant nothing if Virgil was not by his side.

In Scott's eyes, Virgil was the actually the strongest of them all. Not just in physique, but also mentally. Emotionally.

He was the glue that held the family together. Especially after their father had gone missing.

He was what kept Scott grounded. His wingman.

Ever since they were toddlers, the two of them were almost inseparable. The brotherly bond that they shared with each other was uncanny - even when compared with their other siblings. It was one of the biggest elements that made the pair of them such an efficient duo whilst out on missions.

"Goddammit, Virgil, wake up!" Scott yelled in a mixture of frustration and desperation.

There was a stinging heat in his eyes, blurring his vision as he continued to push down on Virgil's chest. His jaw tightened, determined not to let the tears fall.

 _Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen..._

"I need you..."

The usual, commanding tone of his voice had ebbed; authority replaced with anguish.

 _Twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four..._

"C'mon, Virg.. Who else is gonna keep me in check?" he heard his voice crack again - not helped by the lump in his throat.

 _Twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight..._

"I.. I can't do this without you.."

 _Thirty._

Head tilt.

Chin lift.

One breath.

Two.

Back on the chest.

"Please, Virg... Come back..."

His voice was hoarse, ragged breaths stinging his throat. He was starting to tire... Although he was unsure if it was from genuine exhaustion, blood loss or a combination of both.

 _Five, six, seven..._

At first, he thought he was imagining things.

But the faint quaking reverberating through the ground around them quickly grew stronger, soon joined by a low, rumbling sound.

Blue eyes glanced around at their surroundings, hands never leaving Virgil's chest as he tried to look for the source of the disturbance, struggling to take everything in whilst keeping count of the chest compressions in his head.

 _Ten, eleven, twelve..._

Loose pebbles and rocks started to rain down over them with the increasing tremors and Scott realised that their helmets were out of reach. In order to get to them, he would have to stop CPR...

The thunderous sound increased, accompanied by more falling sediment.

 _Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen..._

Scott gave another desperate glance around, his mind racing. There was not a chance in hell that he was going to leave Virgil. Besides, there was nowhere for him to go: They were stranded on a ledge - and he had lost his grapple gun earlier when he had been speared by the falling rock that was currently still embedded in his shoulder.

 _Twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-thr-_

His train of thought was abruptly halted as part of the quarry face not too far from them seemed to explode, sending debris scattering in a multitude of directions.

Honed instincts took over and Scott moved quickly, shielding as much of Virgil's prone form as possible with his own body. He drew in a sharp breath, eyes tightly shut as he braced for the inevitable.

If the two of them were going to go down, it was the very least he could do.

* * *

 _So.. Chapter three ended up being even longer than its predecessors!_

 _Thanks so much for reading! :3_

 _Please do leave a review if you enjoyed reading this - reviews keep me motivated ^^;  
_


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